


Guess I like Playing with Fire

by illusionsofdreaming



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24125650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illusionsofdreaming/pseuds/illusionsofdreaming
Summary: "In a split-second decision, you pushed him against the wall, into the shadows. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips-"ORYou’re on a mission and Claude’s ruining it spectacularly.
Relationships: Claude von Riegan/Reader, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	Guess I like Playing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Another Claudeleth fic from my tumblr reposted here because I am biased.

What most people don’t realise is that what separates a good band of mercenaries from the bad are based on the quality of information they have and not the skills they boast. Intelligence on locations, knowledge of the land and insight on their enemies are what keeps the men alive at the end of the day. Any prowess with a weapon are decoration, the icing on the cake, some extra branding for their names. The best mercenaries have learned to hoard information and their information network is often a complex and extremely exclusive one.

For once your infamous mercenary nickname has uses other than to inspire fear and scare naughty children at night. After all who wouldn’t want to get in the good graces and be allied with the child of the Blade Breaker? There’s been rumours of increased monster activities and it just so happens that the rural city you were passing by where the Ashen Demon’s name was popular was also a hotspot for travelling mercenaries as well.

A simple reconnaissance mission was set up - you would hang around the taverns and gather information and return by day, hopefully with new insight regarding the validity of these rumours, whether or not the resistance should be concerned.

The evening was still young, the tavern you chose had only just started filling. Your current table companions consisted of an axe wielder going by the name of Gildhart, a sharp nosed swordsman with a wicked scar down one cheek and a well built brawler who’s massive red mane was just barely held back by the bandana on her head. Conversation had been slow at first but by the third round of cards, their lips were starting to loosen.

“Damnit! I’ve heard of your prowess on the battlefields but who knew you’d be so vicious on the table too!” Janet scowled as she threw in her cards as you swept your new winnings to your side.

“The name Demon fits you alright!” Gildhart laughed, taking a large drink from his cup.

“Well, our opponent is an incredibly hard person to read, I believe we may have been playing at disadvantage all along.“ Kent, the name of the swordsman you remembered, smiled wryly at you.

“I don’t mind if you wish to try another game instead.“ you offered, palms up in invitation and away from the cards. It didn’t matter which game they chose anyways. You still remembered your father’s disapproval when he first found out, despite its inevitability considering the companions you grew up with.

_“If I can’t stop you from cards, the least I can do is make sure you won’t lose our entire fortune.”_ Jeralt had heaved a sigh then, placed you in his lap and proceeded to teach you the ways of gambling. That was the beginning of your colourful journey into becoming a master card shark, but that‘s a story for another day.

“Pah! We’re not cowards! Am I right boys?” Janet’s fist thumped on the table and for a moment you worried the furniture wouldn’t survive the weight of the brawler’s fist.

“Damn right we’re not!” Gildhart boomed and Kent sighed with a shrug, sealing their fates.

“Let me deal this round.” Kent offered with an apologetic smile your way which you nodded, taking no offence.

“So what dangers brings the Ashen Demon to these parts of Fódlan eh?” Janet asked as her companion began shuffling the cards.

You’ve been ready for this question and you gave a nonchalant shrug as you leaned back with your drink. “Trying our luck before circumstances forces our hand to pick a side.” With the war going on, it was inevitable that mercenaries bands would get absorbed into either side. The sympathetic and understanding nods from her companions seemed to agree.

“I have no love for needless slaughter, retirement might be imminent in my near future.” Kent mumbled softly as he dealt out cards.

You took your cards, taking time to organise them before casually throwing out your bait. “I’ve heard stories of problematic beasts cropping up around the area, there could be business in those desperate enough to spare some coin to hire our skills.”

“Ay, you’ve not heard wrong.” Gildhart coughed. “Although calling them problematic beasts would be an understatement.”

“Oh?” You breathed out, relaxing your shoulders. The wary glance shared amongst the mercenaries was not missed by your eyes. Silence overlapped the table and you played oblivious for a few moments before looking up. “Is everything alright? I understand if I have intruded on something you’d rather deal with yourself.”

“No, nothing like that.” Janet was quick to refute. “We might be confident in our skills but even we know this is not something we can handle.” The mercenaries seemed to share a look between them and some form of agreement must have been reached as they hunched forward in their seats and beckoned you to follow suit.

“They say monsters the size of houses, some with claws and teeth and others with scales appear overnight wiping out villages before disappearing the next day. No one knows where they come from or where they go afterwards. Others have tried hunting them and failed and those that survived an encounter are crippled by fear of what they’ve seen.” Kent relayed this with a somber expression, his eyes taking on a faraway sheen.

You took this in quietly. You understood their wariness, you have witnessed the destruction these beasts are capable of first hand. What concerned you however was their sudden appearances and disappearances. You folded your arms on the table as a frown crossed your face.

“Were the attacked villages known to have frequent monster sightings?”

Gildhart shook his head, rubbing his chin with a grimace. “Not that we know of. Pretty peaceful from what I remembered. The villagers never had any experience against anything larger than a wolf. Some of these men wielded nothing but farming tools against these things.”

Could simple negligence and relaxed security caused the complete annihilation of a village in the short span of a day? Even if it were possible, with how chaotic Fódlan has become, it was common nowadays for simple villagers to be armed with some form of weapon to protect their family and not simple farmer’s tools. Unless... these were men who had been going on about their daily lives, who had been caught unaware and given no time to arm themselves, ambushed by creatures unleashed in the middle of their homes.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You can’t leap to conclusions yet. You needed more information. However before you could ask another question you caught sight of something outside the window. It took your all to resist the instinct to turn around, instead you used your peripherals to confirm your worst fear: Claude Von Riegan, heir to the Riegan house, leader of the Alliance resistance, lurking across the street just begging to be noticed.

“Excuse me for a while.” you stood up abruptly, shocking your companions who started reaching for their weapons which you stopped with a hand. “Sorry, thought I saw someone familiar. I’m going to step out for a while.”

“What about the game?” Gildhart eyes travelled from you to his hand of cards.

“Play without me.” You untied a pouch by your waist and threw it on the table. “Drinks on me.” And you breezed past them, just barely able to control your pace to a fast walk, despite the strongest desire to run.

“Think it's a friend?”

“From the look in the Demon’s eyes?”

“Rest in pieces strang-“ the door closed behind you. You took a deep breath - Sothis knows you’d need it - and scanned the streets. It was almost laughable easy to spot him, wavy hair and green eyes, golden earring glinting in the darkness, smile stretching across face as he spotted you.

His hand was rising to wave but you grabbed him and dragged him away two streets down and shoved him into a indescript alley.

“Whoa teach, at least ask a guy out before-“

“What are you doing here Claude? I thought we’d agreed that you’d wait for my return.” You cut him off, fuming.

“Aw teach, it’s been hours. We’d all rest easier at night if you had someone to watch your back.” He laughed at the wilted glare you sent his way. “Alright so we’re not really worried and maybe I’m just a little nosy.”

Of all the people to come nosing in, it had to be Claude. The most high profile, easily recognisable mascot of the Alliance resistance. While you knew despite his flippant attitude, Claude would never do anything to jeopardise the war efforts, his being here meant he’s comfortable and confident in his ability to get out unscathed.

You sighed and relaxed against a wall, since he was here anyways you might as well pass on what you’ve gathered so far. “I haven’t gotten much yet.” you warned and made sure to direct a pointed glare towards him before relaying what you’ve heard and your theories so far.

He had a hand on his chin as he listened, brows furrowed in a contemplative expression. “Almost like what happened back in the chapel in Garreg Mach...” He was mumbling to himself but the words brought back a flood of memories you had avoided revisiting.

_You vividly remembered the ruins, the screams of students and roars of creatures rending the air. The cold and the overwhelming numbness that took you as you held the motionless body of your only family. You were alone, truly alone and the cold was seeping into your blood, your bones, your soul. What little emotions you’ve gained these past few months was being stripped by the cold. There’s no one left-_

“___________.” His hand was warm against your skin, a shocking contrast that brought you back, burning away the ice in your veins. His gaze was apologetic and a touch concerned, his hold on you was supportive but not restrictive.

You shook your head lightly, stepping back from his touch and he released you. “I’m fine.” You muttered, brushing a hand through your hair, disappointed for getting carried away.

His eyes watched you, “Of course, teach. I never doubted that.” He said quietly with a smile, the sincerity in his tone hard to ignore and it made the breath in your lungs catch in your throat. There were times like these, where the masks he wore would slip and you would hear the strength of his convictions and beliefs. That truly, despite your lapse in emotions, all your flaws and imperfections, he knew you’d be alright, you’d pull through, even when you don’t believe it yourself.

You averted your eyes. “You should get back to the others Claude.” You were about to shoo him off when you heard footsteps approaching. You panicked. The leader of the Leicester Alliance can’t be seen here, skulking about in dark alleyways like some scoundrel with nefarious intentions. With how tensed and chaotic everything's been with the war, the last thing the Alliance needed was doubt to be casted on their leader's reputation. In a split-second decision, you pushed him against the wall, into the shadows. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips, purposely angling yourself so that most of your profile blocked Claude’s features from view.

Though initially stiff with surprise, Claude quickly caught on. It was remarkable how quickly he adapted, tension from his shoulders melting off as he relaxed his hand on your waist, fingers curling on your hip like a possessive lover.

There was a gasp of surprise as the footsteps halted. “Is that-”

A convincing groan from Claude convinced the stragglers to pick up their pace and a few seconds later they were gone.

Immediately you moved away to check but Claude lunged for you, tugging you to his side as laughter crossed the alleyway. With one arm rested against the wall to shield your faces, you had a second to take in his boyish smile before he dipped down to kiss you again, his hand held your chin with surprising gentleness. In return you pulled on his curls just on a touch side of painful which made him grunt, a soft breath of amusement puffed against your lips.

The strangers passed by his back and Claude pressed closer, ducking his head further. It was easy to ignore the lewd taunts and whistles they threw over their shoulders as they walked past when all you could focus on was how soft his lips were, how you’re positively sure all the blood in your body had rushed to your face.

This time when the strangers left, neither of you parted immediately, just to be sure. In the shadows, you counted down seconds and when it seems no further strangers would be passing by, you stepped away.

“Well,” Claude started with a soft laugh but it was strained and for once he seemed to be struggling with his words. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me teach.” He tried to be casual, but his usual flippant tone was ruined by the breathlessness in his voice. This uncertainty from Claude, someone who always seemed to have a reaction and smile prepared for every scenario, was unexpected... and it stirred something uncomfortable in your chest.

“I couldn’t let them see your face.” You explained, ignoring the tingling in your lips and the lingering thoughts of how it felt to have your fingers in his wavy curls. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had followed the plan in the first place.”

He chuckled, mask back on, his arms drew back to cross behind his head in his signature lazy half stretch. “Ah, well, you know me and instructions teach.”

You shook your head as you willed the heat from your face to disperse. “Get out of here before you get caught for real Claude.”

You turned to leave the alleyway but he reached out to grab your wrist. “__________, about what happened-“

“We’re not talking about this.” You whipped around and gave him a firm glare, determined to end the conversation before it started. There’s a ball of emotions curling in your chest that you’re not ready to unravel. You needed time and there’s still a mission to be completed.

His green eyes were bright as he released your hand with a laugh. “Not even a li-”

“No.”

Claude’s smile was knowing as his thumb traced the bottom of his lips, grinning when your eyes inadvertently followed the movement.

“If you say so, my friend.” He hummed, expression thoughtful as he gave a small shrug.

“Go now.” You’re almost impatient to return to the tavern. You’ve never had a preference for drinks, not like your father, but now you find yourself desperately craving for something strong.

“Although your cold dismissal hurts, I shall do as you wish and promptly remove myself from your vicinity.” He swept into a dramatic bow, but its effect was ruined when he looked up not a moment later with a cheeky wink.

He dodged your half-hearted kick and his laugh made him look like he’s never aged a day beyond seventeen and it stayed on your mind for the rest of the night.

You were woken the next morning by the uproar in camp, although not for the reason you’d expected. Apparently words of mysterious strangers hidden in the back alley became the story of the town and soon bards were singing songs of the Ashen Demon’s midnight tryst much to your abject horror and Claude’s great amusement. You knew a betting pool was being set up, something you’re determined to sabotage.

You’re hiding in your tent, with a pounding headache, not willing to reign in the chaos outside just yet.

A breath of fresh air washed into your tent as someone entered.

“How bad is it?” You threw out before the other could say a word.

He didn’t answer immediately, humming thoughtfully as he set down the tray of food he was carrying on the coffee table. “I think my favourite version has to be the one where the Ashen Demon seduced the local hero, single handedly finish the war with the blessed sword before riding the Immaculate One into the sunset.”

The story was so outlandish you couldn’t even dignify it with a proper response and opted to hide your face in your hands. It’s bad. _Really bad_.

Claude’s laughter was light and airy, and despite your mood, something inside warmed at the heartfelt joy in his tone.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled.

“Perhaps.” he allowed with a grin, bright eyes sparkling. “I’ve mixed something to help with your headache, it’s bitter but it should do the trick.” He placed a small vial on your table.

“You did well my friend. Rest up, I will deflect the others from disturbing you for today.” He patted your shoulder and avoided your halfhearted swipe with a smile before pushing outside your tent. You had two seconds to catch sight of all of your ex-students crowded around the entrance before the tent flap fell behind him, muting the excited gossip that grew in volume at Claude’s reappearance.

You sighed against your hands, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. The mess of feelings in your chest was no closer to being solved, in fact it’s getting more and more complicated by the day. For a moment, you swore the ring Jeralt left you grew warm in your pocket.


End file.
